Death to Belladonna's Enemies
by Morag X. Henegev
Summary: The Death Eaters are out of Azkeban, running around, looking for a way to find the Prophecy. Will they succeed? Several deaths and .... ending. Please read and review.
1. Prologue

Malachite stone shone on her ring. Determination in her head was swelling rapidly; a mix of tears, regret, constant shouting, and hatred boasted her decision. She is to revenge Sirius' death.  
  
Their love-story commenced at Hogwarts, before the lethal reign of Lord Voldemort was evident. It took time for their feelings to develop and for them to get together. By the time school was over, Sirius Black saw no other plans in his life than the one to marry Lucretia Trent. She was all he ever wanted. She was his angel, the angel of Slytherin house.  
  
Lucretia was quite different from her house mates. She did not see a point of being an insufferable git to everyone, even to those of lesser blood. She would always suppress her hatred towards wizards and witches whose blood was not as pure as hers or Sirius'. On the other hand, there were qualities in her that linked her to her house - Purity of blood, mule determination/stubbornness, ambition, vindictiveness, and family tradition. She accepted her mates the way they were, making sure she never goes astray in her path to always be good. Sirius loved her because of that. But then everything started going terribly wrong - the prophecy, and the threat against Lily and James and their new-born son. Lucretia felt she was loosing grip on Sirius. Last straw was when Sirius run away, despite her begging, to make Peter pay for his betrayal. When Sirius got imprisoned, her life ended. Slowly, she pushed away all her friends that she knew were involved with Lord Voldemort.  
  
But as time passed, she advanced in the Ministry of Magic where she worked, and became Senior Executive for Wizard Safety. That meant she could leave to inspect Azkeban whenever she pleased, but that was pointless then, since Sirius ran away.  
  
Eager to see Sirius again, and knowing that all the Order of Phoenix members can trust her, she joined them. She have forgiven Sirius for leaving her all alone for 14 years and love again started sparking between them again. Unfortunately, it did not go as far as it did the first time - this time due to Sirius' death.  
  
That event left her empty and hating. After telling the whole Order off and slapping Remus Lupin, she trailed off to plot her revenge. It was their fault that Sirius died, she thought. They could've saved him. Instead, an old crackpot fool wizard, a filthy werewolf, half-blood punk, senile paranoid Auror, and handful of kids emerged alive.  
  
For an unexplainable reason she did not blame Bellatrix for Sirius' death, like Lupin did. She grew up with Bellatrix, witnessing her harsh childhood and knew why she turned out so... the way she was. It was them, the Order who should have saved Sirius. After all she has had done for them, getting all those informations about Voldemort from Lucius Malfoy, who always trusted her, not helping those ten Death Eaters out of Azkeban when she could have, and tried her hardest to get Professor Umbridge out of Hogwarts, this is how they thanked her.  
  
The fortress of Azkeban was cold. Rough walls exhumed the tortured screams they endured over the years causing chills to run through everybody's veins. Even the Dementors abandoned this place, now that the Dark Lord proposed them a better deal. Seldom were left, roaming around, lost.  
  
On the top floor, where all the permanent residents were inhabiting, sly whispers were vibrating the air. Lucretia followed the sound to find herself in a vista of metal doors, arched by grey stone, with no bolt or lock, that magic held locked. She went from one to another, looking for any Death Eaters. Finally, she peered through the eye-level bars, only opening the occupants of the cells had to the outside world, and found Antonin Dolohov's hollow eyes staring back at her.  
  
"Routine Azkeban inspection, m'dear?" he said dully, in his Eastern European accent.  
  
"Something like that. So, how's it going?" she said, starting to get uncomfortable under his exterminating gaze, but still holding well, not blinking.  
  
"Oh, it's going marvelous, we just love it here," Lucretia heard a slimy voice behind her.  
  
"Jugson," she said turning around, feeling Dolohov's eyes at the back of her skull, "I came here to help you."  
  
"Help us convert to the good side? Maybe join you in idolizing Dumbledore," Dolohov mocked from behind.  
  
"No, I said I came to help you."  
  
"She came to slaughter us."  
  
"That moronic old man wants her to get information on how to find the Dark Lord!"  
  
"You're mocking us, aren't you?"  
  
"Let her speak!" was heard out of the depths of hallway. Lucretia recognized that cold silky voice, and knew that she can turn to its speaker for help and understand.  
  
She walked down the corridor, every cell dweller now looking out to her.  
  
"How can I help you?" asked Lucius Malfoy, leaning on the bars, his nose resting between two of them. His hair looked not longer sleek and healthy, but it was dry, matt. His face adopted ghastly green colour and purple eye bags were around his eyes.  
  
"I want to help you. I want to get you out of this place, so you can return to your Master and serve him."  
  
"I am sorry, but I am not really buying this. Come again."  
  
"I said, it is unfair that you are locked out here, when real murderers are roaming around our world, brining all the contained blood to be taught our ways," Lucretia said, trying to keep her face from reflecting too much hatred.  
  
Lucius was quiet, studying her blue eyes, when a voice came from behind her. Opposite of Lucius' call was Bellatrix's call.  
  
"Does this have anything to do with my dead cousin?" she said, laughing out of joy that she was the one to kill the black sheep of the noble house of Black.  
  
"You know it does," she spat angrily.  
  
"They were running all around to save James' son, even Sirius thought of his life less than of that stupid bairn's. They need to pay... Especially Dumbledore; he needs to die."  
  
"Admirable sentiment, Lucretia. So as far as I understand this, you want us to go and avenge your boyfriend?" Lucius sneered.  
  
"No. I want you free you, so I can join you and make sure that Dumbledore is dead. He should've have allowed Sirius' death!"  
  
"Are you sure you're worthy enough to have our Master wanting you in his service?"  
  
Lucretia thought for a moment.  
  
"All the Unforgivable Curses, I can do them. You know I can. I studied Dark Arts my whole life. On the other hand, nobody from the Order suspects that I would ever join your circles.... and they do tell me things. Things that your Master might find useful"  
  
Lucius thought for a moment.  
  
"How will you free us?" he asked, his inside already throbbing with excitement that he'll be out soon.  
  
"I'll send someone to get you out. Someone who can get past the wizard security that was put at the entrance - mind you, it's pitiful what unlearnt scum they think can protect Azkeban. However, I cannot help you now, nobody can even suspect me," Lucretia said, business-like.  
  
Lucius exchanged few glances with Bellatrix, opposite of him, and few other people, and it was all nods. Lucretia knew that their deal was on.  
  
"When will you send someone to get us out?"  
  
"In less than a fortnight. Be ready. I found a temporary place for you to stay, a spare castle that has been in my family for years; location very secretive, no one will find it," she said, unable to suppress a feeble smile.  
  
"The deal is sealed. I am sure that the Dark Lord will be glad to have such a great witch like you in his service. Everyone did always wonder why didn't you join..."  
  
"Right. Until then-"  
  
"Good bye."  
  
"Do svidaniya," called Dolohov as she left. They all overheard her conversation with Lucius and were all excited that they will soon be out, running around in their masks, and doing what they like the best - making others suffer. 


	2. Benighted Like IllFated Usher

Harry was back chez Dursleys for the summer. He found it curious that despite her effort to ignore him, Petunia did have non-loathing feelings for him. After all, they were related. She was her awful self towards him as she has been her whole life, but he could catch her eyes briefly sometimes, gazing concernedly at him. Of course, Dudley and Vernon were anything but compassionate towards Harry's situation. They seemed glad that his good-for-nothing godfather ended up that way.  
  
Dudley continued his 'Big D' routine, concealing his vandalistic and heathenish behaviour with his dumb gang from his parents. They believed their son was that perfect little gentleman who would get invited for tea every night at his friends' houses.  
  
Harry did not bother with that fat slob, certainly glad Dudley was always out. He took an advice from Hermione and used his free time to read school textbooks. Being an Auror was what he really wanted and he had a lot to learn. It was not studying, as he told Ron in his letter, it was more like leisure reading. In the reply, Ron accused him of Hermione Syndrome and swore that if Harry was engulfed by being like Hermione, he'll have to go seek some less academic friends. Less academic friends such as Neville.  
  
-------------  
  
Speaking of less academic people, Goyle Senior was getting ready to execute Lucretia's rescue plan. She did not need much to persuade him to do it.  
  
He walked right up to the two sentinels standing in front of the ugly slab of stone called Azkaban. Azkaban really was a rock and a hard place.  
  
Sentinels looked over the Ministry permission that allowed Goyle to pay a visit to Lucius Malfoy. The signature on it was forged - Lucretia, who was in position to issue such a permit could not risk her calling and credibility, so she she got someone to forge signature of one of her colleagues.  
  
Sentinels held onto Goyle's wand so they would be sure he could not aid anyone in breaking out. In normal circumstances, he would be escorted to the cell by a Dementor. In this case, since Dementors were nearly gone, he was to find the way himself.  
  
He knew where to go, Lucretia went through every pebble of Azkaban with him.  
  
He found his damsels in distress on the top floor.  
  
"Is that what she sent to get us out?" came a mocking voice from a nearby cell. Goyle did not have to second-guess that it belonged to Antonin Dolohov. Next moment, all of the Death Eaters, who knew that they will be liberated, rose up, peering curiously through the bars of their separate cells at Goyle.  
  
"I have a wand."  
  
"Where?" laughed Dolohov out loud.  
  
"It's quite tricky; you Eastern Europeans can't grasp it," sneered Jugson from the opposite cell.  
  
Goyle begun undressing his robes, averting everybody's attention from Dolohov's attemp to make a wreakful comeback at Jugson. Lucretia figured out that the only way for him to sneak in a wand was that she hides it inside his flesh. It would go undetected to the security sensors not because of the fat that was excess on Goyle's body, but because a lotion spread over his skin that Severus Snape brewed up. Severus was not aware what his concoction was going to be used for.  
  
When he had his shirt off, he extracted wand out of his stomach. It was quite nasty site to watch; him, inserting his fingers into his flesh and painlessly pulling a wooden object out.  
  
He carelessly placed the garments back on, and then stood motionlessly, trying to remember the spell to open the cell doors.  
  
"Just give the wand to me," said a tired voice, fed up with Goyle's stupidity. Goyle obeyed.  
  
Rodolphus Lestrange, who was a specialist for Charms, grabbed the wand through the bars, and got himself out in one swish and flick. Several more times action repeated and they were all out.  
  
"This is life."  
  
"To get back to Dumbledore and his brainless puppets..."  
  
"I wonder if we could have some fun with the sentries."  
  
"They're Mudbloods," spoke Rabastan Lestrange for the first time, "they worked for me 18 years ago."  
  
Bellatrix let some of her evil hollow laugh, and Rodolphus handed wand over to Lucius Malfoy. Lucius specialized in Muggle Torture.  
  
Lucius summoned their bodies over with a spell.  
  
They came flying hither, bewildered expressions on their faces upon realizing what is happening. Quickly, Lucius disarmed them, and Bellatrix and Antonin grabbed two spare wands. After closing scared sentinels inside a cell in which five minutes ago Jugson resided, Lucius bewitched the walls, so they would close in on them, crushing them to death.  
  
-------------  
  
Lucretia has prepared an unplottable castle that has been in her family since the existence of William the Conqueror, that he built to keep Wales down. Trents, roughly a millenium ago, thought that they particularly liked that one, and from their home, a great castle close to Retford, overtook it.  
  
Since it dated from such ancient time, it did not have numerous fancy rooms. It contained thick stone wall enfolding the establishment, a humble courtyard (with a well), one luxarious bathroom (ornated in Peruvian marble), and quite a few chambers. The Great Hall was turned into a leisure living room space, with Mille Fleurs-inspired tapestries (preserved by magic, of course), and roof re-thatched. As their family banner changed through time, they would hang up each new one on the wall. The newest one, dating from 1888, was two crossed swords impaled through eagle's heart, over water-blue background.  
  
Comfortable seating space was scarce. The Great Hall was mostly furnished with rough wooden chairs and few tables with oil lamps on.  
  
Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were there, waiting for their husband and father. Close relations of all the other Death-Eaters-soon-to-arrive-free was either non-existent or could not be there for a certain reason.  
  
Draco was nervously drumming his hand on his thigh, while Narcissa was holding Lucius' prized cane. Lucretia was pacing up and down the empty space, her black coat trailing after her steps. Her cigarette rested between her fingers, stroking the tip of the butt with her thumb.  
  
"You know, you can always call all this off. There is no need for you to become a Death Eater - they will all finish Dumbledore and that Potter boy off one day. You can aid them in different ways," Narcissa said.  
  
Draco, who stood leaning on the arched mantelpiece, made a face at mention of Harry's name. His face expression was vacant, his eyes gazing through the narrow stained glass windows.  
  
Lucretia took a final puff, putting the cigarette out on the floor with the sole of her shoe. She had another one lit in no time.  
  
"I know. I mean, I will be required to kill, won't I?" replied Lucretia coming to a halt in front of Narcissa.  
  
"Of course you will. Why do you think I never joined? 'Tis true that traitors to our blood and Mudbloods should be drowned in dirty blood, but there are other perfectly willing people to annihilate them. Like my husband, or my sister, or their friends... I can always keep my hands clean," smiled Narcissa, motheringly looking at Lucretia who was few years younger than her.  
  
"I always knew you love my ne'er-do-well cousin, and I guess he should't have died, but why don't you just stab a knife in Dumbledore's back? That would work out perfectly?" laughed Narcissa. Lucretia laughed back, almost choking onto nicotine she had in her lungs at that very moment.  
  
"Maybe I could, but I'd prefer if they see my betrayal," she painfully responded through a fit of coughing.  
  
"They're here; Father!"  
  
Draco got up while his father, who just entered the room, gave him an approving smile. Draco received a privilege from Lucius - a reserved one- arm hug that Lucius saved just for most special occasions to give his son.  
  
The other Death Eaters looked around the room, sitting down.  
  
"So you did go through with this," said Antonin looking around.  
  
"I am on your side now," Lucretia responded, concluding her struggle; she won't question her decision ever again.  
  
On the other end of the room, Mulciber was too quick to locate the bar, and start handing out fire-whiskey to everyone. Antonin raised his glass and said: "To Lucretia, for coming over to the dark side and getting us out of Azkaban!"  
  
"To Lucretia," everyone said and drunk, while Lucretia flushed slightly. Antonin noticed that and put his arm around her, telling her how she really deserved praise because she is benighted now.  
  
Draco, who was allowed to drink alcohol, brought clean clothes up to his father, which got him another endorsing smile, and went off to his Aunt Bella for a drink. He enjoyed her presence ever since he met her, which was fairly recently, upon her her break out from Azkaban. She would do nothing but compliment him.  
  
In the meantime, Narcissa was taking care of Lucius.  
  
"You'll need help with putting that on. And you need to take a shower, look at your hair," she sighed, taking a strand of Lucius hair with her delicate hand. She had French manicure.  
  
"You can't imagine how dirty that place is. I feel like that giant Hagrid, the Hogwarts buffoon - he probably doesn't ever know what baths are," he said. Then he noticed Narcissa holding his cane.  
  
"I had to steal it from the Department for Confiscated Goods, darling," she commented, handing the prized object over to him. Lucius gaped at it, satisfied, and drew the wand out of it.  
  
"It's all dusty and deprived of luster. I'll need help polishing it..."  
  
"Of course," she giggled and they left the Great Hall.  
  
Draco was sitting in the corner of the room, smiling in self-pleased manner, listening to Bella's praise of him.  
  
"You're such a fine boy, Draco. You got smarts from your mother, and good looks and shrewdness from your father. I am sure there is no finer boy currently attending Hogwarts..."  
  
Draco was finding it too hard to cover how truthful he was finding what Bella's was saying, when her husband arrived.  
  
"Stop talking, woman, you'll spoil the boy."  
  
"Be useful and get us another drink, Rodolphus!," replied Bella without even looking at her husband. When he was gone, before she continued telling praises, Bella said in whisper:  
  
"If you marry, make sure you marry a mute."  
  
Lucius took quite some time to polish his wand, coming back in his common attire - black taffeta poet's shirt, with high collar and eyelet stitched sleeves. Black heavy robes was over it, with wide sleeves that opened at the elbow, releasing down feet of spare fabric. Legs were not seen behind the robes, but trousers he wore were boot-cut and feet had leather boots on.  
  
He walked over to Lucretia who was on her second pack, in the corner sipping on her whiskey, while Antonin hang over her shoulder and tried to have a conversation with her. Lucius beckoned him to step aside, and sat opposite of her to have a small talk.  
  
"I want to thank you," he begun, "for deciding to help us and seeing that our side is where you belong."  
  
She nodded absently and took another sip of her drink. Lucius twiddled the glass in his hand, eyes preternaturally sleekit.  
  
"Dark Lord will be very pleased for helping us out of that place... I appreciate Bella's and Rodolphus' nerve for spending fourteen years there."  
  
She was still silent.  
  
"Are you still determined to go through with this?"  
  
"Yes," said Lucretia making sure her voice does not break.  
  
"Are you absolutely sure?"  
  
"Nothing is absolute," she said wisely. Lucius gave her a small smile.  
  
Lucius suddenly took her hand and moved closer to her. When he spoke his voice was so quiet that it was barely a whisper.  
  
"How are you at night? Do you still have those nightmares?"  
  
Lucretia procrastinated the answer.  
  
"They can only get worse when you kill someone," he said in his most caring voice, which was still very cold and impersonal.  
  
"I'll deal with it on my own. My nightmares started with death, maybe they'll end with death," she said, bitterness etched in her sharp skin plicae, making them appear coarse.  
  
Lucius chose not to reply.  
  
"You don't know how it is," Lucretia continued, letting go of his hand and lighting another cigarette, "Waking up every night by your own screams, drenched in cold sweat. It hasn't improved by years. Every night the same."  
  
"I could help you if you wanted me to..."  
  
"Just leave me be..."  
  
Discomforting silence proceeded. Lucius changed the theme not soon enough.  
  
"You know which array we wear?"  
  
Lucretia nodded again, "Black cape and a mask."  
  
"And you've got it ready? Good. Mulciber and I will leave now to meet with the Dark Lord. He knows we're free, he's expecting us. I'll talk to him about you and I am sure he'll have you in, after I consulation with me. Be ready when I come to summon you."  
  
Lucretia nodded for the last time and Lucius left. Next thing that she did, after taking a look around the room, was to finish off the rest of fire-whiskey that rested in her glass.  
  
-------------  
  
Lucius' summon came quickly, maybe too quickly for Lucretia's expectations. Thoughts were going through her head so she did not even realize what she was doing to find herself in the middle of a circle of masked Death Eaters, illuminated by light coming out of nowhere, with Lord Voldemort standing in front of her.  
  
"So this is her, Lucius," said a cold voice of Lord Voldemort. Lucretia had to constantly muster energy to keep looking into those serpentine red eyes.  
  
"Name," the Dark Lord demanded.  
  
"Lucretia Hyacinth Trent."  
  
"Blood?"  
  
"Sixteen generations of marrying nothing filthier than fourth generation of wizards and witches," she responded.  
  
Lord Voldemort smiled contently.  
  
"Why do you want to join?"  
  
"I want revenge."  
  
"You seem to have a lot of knowledge in Dark Arts, Lucius tells me. Is it power that you're seeking?"  
  
"No, because knowledge and power directly imply one another."  
  
Lord Voldemort gave a contended snort.  
  
"Give my your left hand."  
  
She obeyed.  
  
He pulled back the black sleeve, pushing her down to kneel in front of him.  
  
She did not have chance to to feel impact on her knees, because next moment Lord Voldemort pressed his wand under her elbow and burning sensation filled her body. Sadistically, Lord Voldemort took his time to carve the Dark Mark on her skin. Lucretia was too shocked by painful throe to scream or give any other response.  
  
It seemed hours when the vile mark was done and she was tugged back to stand.  
  
"You received the Dark Mark; hence, you've given yourself to me. Your loyalty belongs to me, now. You are to show utter obedience and never question my orders or of a superiour appointed by me. If you cross me, a proper punishment will find you. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes," she replied weakly.  
  
That was a mistake.  
  
"Crucio!" drawled the Dark Lord lazily.  
  
When it was over, Lucretia was flat on her back, her tears quenching the incineration in her red eyes. She was roughly pushed foreword from behind, being back on her legs. She did not remember screaming, though her throat felt like someone scratched on it with a fork.  
  
"You are to respond with 'Yes, my Master.' And you are never to say my name, Lord Voldemort. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, my Master."  
  
"Good." 


	3. I Wept Til' Tears Crept Back to Prayer

I WEPT 'TIL TEARS CREPT BACK TO PRAYER

(Chapter II)

It was a hot summer day, but the thick stone walls kept Hogwarts isolated from all the heat. Snape was invited to Dumbledore's office for a small talk. Despite the hot air accumulated outside, he knew he will not be getting out of the cold castle for next few days, so he wore his thick layers of black robes, anyway. 

Dumbledore surveyed Severus' pallid face, who sat opposite of him, buried into an article of the Daily Prophet. As his eyes darted down the page, he mouthed words, his face rigid with horror of what he was seeing. 

"Professor, I swear, I was not aware of any schemes to get those Death Eaters out of the Azkaban..." he said automatically upon finishing the article, shaking his greasy head. 

The old man said nothing in reply. Severus delayed slightly with initiating a conversation. 

"What do you think, Professor?" finally said Severus, putting the paper on the desk in front of him. 

The Hogwarts Headmaster heaved a great sigh and replied, speaking very slowly. 

"They couldn't have escaped by themselves, not without any wands (Azkaban security wasn't that lax at the moment). Before they were imprisoned, they were throughly searched if they have anything on them that could abet them out, and all potentially dangerous items were confiscated. Even a cane that held a wand inside it was taken away..."

Dumbledore stopped for a moment before continuing. 

"Two days before the break out, a permit was issued to Mr Darren Goyle to visit Mr Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban. The day of his visit, the Minister personally, with delegation to ensure higher security, was to come to Azkaban. They arrived to find cells empty and two sentinels, that were supposed to temporary guard the entrance, savagely murdered.

"I think, Severus, that someone from outside, someone who is acquainted very well with what is happening in the Ministry, must have planned their escape. Otherwise, if they have planned it a day later, the escape would be harder."

"And that person sent Darren to get them out?" asked Severus, quizzically. He was assured that Goyle alone was not sly enough to plan it. 

"Beside my wildest guesses, there is no evidence of anything. Especially now that we are unable to questions Mr Goyle - he is gone. Last seen by his wife telling her that he is to go and do some work."

"And the person who issued the permit?"

"Mr Abraham Pinkly is currently being interrogated by the Aurors. Miss Tonks was put on that case. He claims that he did not issue such a permit, but Ministry believes that they put a memory charm on him."

"I see," said Severus, thinking hard. Surely Lucius Malfoy, with whom he has been allied, would have contacted him by now if he was out. That meant that he will have to find means of contacting Lucius himself. 

"Alas, it is of grave importance that we protect Mr Potter even further. He is quite safe with the Muggles... at the moment. We sent Ms Vance to stay with Mrs Figg, as an additional caution. Of course, we all agreed that it is best if he was not to know about Ms Vance. Mr Fletcher is still following him around, though..."

Severus made a sour face, thinking of Harry. 

"I know that there is a lot between you two... but you must try to put all that behind. How did your Occlumency progress?"

"Not as well as you would think. Potter has been crossing the line ever since he arrived at Hogwarts, why would he be any more obedient with advices I give him..."

Dumbledore raised his hand which was a cue for Severus to stop talking. He flexed his face muscles, leaning foreword. 

"I appreciate that you were teaching him, but I have another request - I want you to continue with classes in the summer."

Severus winced. 

"In addition to that, I want you to teach him how to Apparate."

Immediate petrification of his completely body solely, stopped from jumping out of the chair in shock. 

"Illegally?" he said, raising his eyebrow. 

  
"It is a skill of uttermost exigency. He needs to know it. Mr Potter is a very bright boy, and if he's able to conjure such a powerful Patronus, Apparation is going to be very easy for him."

"But it would also mean performing magic during the holidays, which as we all know is against the law. Such amount of magic would mean immediate expulsion for Potter," said Snape. Comprehension dawned, and Snape realized what he said; he could not help but think of all the wonderful possibilities of Potter out of Hogwarts.

"I've taken care of that," replied Dumbledore with reassuring archaic smile. Snape's spirits sunk. 

"Of course; when do you want me to start?" Severus said through gritted teeth. 

Dumbledore ignored this stifled remark and responded: "After his birthday. I'll explain you how to get to where he is. You can go now and write him a letter to tell him you'll be turning up so he can get prepared."

Severus was numb with anger, but mumbled something like 'Yes, Professor.' He got up, and set towards the door out of Dumbledore's office. 

"Oh, and Severus - do wear something more appropriate when you go to visit Mr Potter. His cousins are not very keen on company of wizards and you'll boil in all those layers of black flannel."

This time, Severus could not get himself to respond, but turned around abruptly and opened the door of the office violently, setting outside. But at the top of the round stares he bumped into Professor McGonagall. She seemed frantic, and panting for breath, ran past Severus towards Professor Dumbledore. Severus turned after her and went back inside the office. 

"Albus! Albus... Something just happened..."

Dumbledore got up and caught Professor McGonagall, who in her run tripped on a chair. 

"Oh Albus, you must come!"

"What happened?" he asked calmly. 

"Sybill Trelawney... she's gone... I just went to her to see if she's going to continue teaching next year, after that awful woman, Umbridge, sacked her... and I entered her chambers... they were empty. I found only a note telling how she saw something in the crystal ball... I tried to contact her family, but none of them had any idea about her whereabouts..."

"All right, you can tell me the rest on the way. Now, let's go!"

They set off towards Trelawney's chambers that were right above her classroom, Snape following them like a cloaked Dementor, almost gliding with his frivolous walk and stooping.

"What was it that she saw in the crystal ball?" Dumbledore asked, as they were climbing another flight of stairs. 

"Some rubbish how she's seen that people will be coming after her... Oh, that foolish woman and her nonplussed inner eye... I just hope she didn't do anything stupid," Professor McGonagall was saying through tears now. 

When they entered her chambers, McGonagall showed the note to Dumbledore. It was written on the large oval mirror that hung between two windows. Dumbledore read it few times, examining it. 

However, Snape snooped around, no one paying any attention to him and he not paying attention to the note on the wall (that seemed very distorted). Nevertheless, he found a small note under the old mattress on which Professor Trelawney slept. He looked over it. A name of the place, Nar'yan-Mar, was written on it. That name seemed familiar to him, but he could not remember from where. Under it stood a name of wizarding chain of taverns and information on reservations. Severus now knew where Professor Trelawney has run away to - she was in Russia. He could not explain it to himself, but repressed with his current anger towards Dumbledore, he chose not to say anything. 

"But Albus... could it not be that they found out that Sybill was the one who made the Prophecy?" asked McGonagall in hushed voice. 

That was it for Severus, all he needed to know; he noiselessly got out of the room, heading back to his office in the dungeons. 

Certainly, now he knew how to get to what the Dark Lord was looking after. He could give this information to Lucius Malfoy, and that would get Lucius to tell him more about Death Eaters' plans, which he would later report to Dumbledore. It would all work out perfectly...

-------------

...but it did not. 

Lucius was delighted to hear from his friend, Severus. He was even more delighted by the information Severus had dug out for him, about Sybill Trelawney. He told that to Lucius in hope that Lucius will inform him on how they got out of Azkaban, but Lucius was bound quiet. 

Lucius did not dillydally for a second, but went straight to inform the Dark Lord about the news. 

"Are you absolutely sure, Lucius, that that is the old crone who made the Prophecy?" asked the Dark Lord in his sibilant speech. 

  
"My Lord, I am sure. It came straight from the mouth of no one else than Albus Dumbledore," Lucius said oily, a huge fake smile on his face. 

The Dark Lord surveyed him, flanked with Cassius Acrates, his most loyal and important supporter. Cassius was well over sixty, with grey coarse hair that always stuck up and pair of iron-grey eyes. His mouth was thin and his nose large. 

"What do you propose to do, Lucius?" asked Cassius in off-hand voice, making sure he does not lose eye contact with Lucius. Cassius was kind of a mentor to Lucius; a father which Lucius lost when he was very young. 

"I shall go and hunt her down. Then I shall force her to tell me what exactly the Prophecy is. Of course, My Lord, you will be the first person to find out what is in it," he was saying. On the surface, Lucius appeared very calm. But inside, as every time he spoke to Lord Voldemort, his stomach was upset, uneasy. It felt like something oozing with many thin tentacles crawled inside of him. 

"Good. You shall find her and do what you told me. You shouldn't go alone. Take Dolohov and Bella with you," he ordered. 

"Yes, my Master," said Lucius, bowing his head, cowering under the power of the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived. 

"May I have your permission to immediately set off?"

"Of course."

Lucius bowed once more, averting his eyes down, but before he was able to set off, Dark Lord spoke again:

"And... take your trainee, Trent, with you. I want to see how she is in practice."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You know if she does something wrong... it's your head?" said the Dark Lord with a coltish smirk. 

"My Lord, I assure that something like that will not happen," Lucius responded, feeling that odious feeling rise up from his stomach into his throat. 

Dark Lord just nodded grimly and dismissed Lucius. 

-------------

Lucretia was not aware that Lucius' life depended on quality of her performance and strength to commit the most macabre acts of which she only has read. If she did, she could not forgive him for taking her so important that he would compare her revenge impulse with his life. 

Lucius and Lucretia always shared a tenacious bond. Both of their parents ceased to be alive when they were very young; Lucretia was unhappy enough that her father was killed in front of her by the Aurors two nights before her departure for the first year of Hogwarts. 

Part of the plan was for Lucretia to be back at the Order, as close to them as she could possible get without them discovering what she was really up to. It was a tough job for her, especially since she was not too good at hiding her emotions and purpose. Rabastan Lestrange advised her that it would be best if she does not speak too much, rather just listen. Maybe, if she made herself believe that she is telling the truth when she is not, Bellatrix told her, she would not behave as if she was lying. Lucretia tried her best to follow those tips because she needed all help she could get. 

When she finally stopped mourning Sirius in black, she showed up to one of the Order of Phoenix meetings wearing her common attire of all white. Gabardine coat, with very little details on it, beside diagonal pockets and silver clasps that ran all the way from the high collar to the middle of the thighs, reached down to her ankles. Under, she wore ruffed blouse and pants, that touched the floor, so only toes of her stiletto sandals were visible. Her charcoal hair had only few grays, at the tip of her roots, and her almond-shaped blue eyes were veiled by arched eyebrows. She never bothered with any make-up that you can actually see, so even though it took many years off her face, it did not bestow any additional beauty. 

The meetings of the Order of Phoenix were still held at the Grimmauld Place, despite the death of Sirius Black. It was still a safe place, protected by Dumbledore and Fidelius Charm. After Sirius' mother died, in her will, she left it to Sirius. Otherwise, Narcissa would already have taken it and made it into a place where she can store her old dressed that she does not want anymore, but does not feel like having them worn by anyone else. 

Lucretia took a few long moments to breath deeply as she entered the ancient and most noble house of Black. The furniture may have lost its previous luster since the time she has been over for the first time, and walls might yellowed, but the smell was same. Old and rotting are the two best words to describe it. 

She glanced at the curtains that concealed Mrs Black. Few moth holes were at the bottom. Mrs Black always liked Lucretia for her parentage and heredity, and would go around saying how Lucretia was the best thing that ever happened to her useless son. 

-------------

Since the Drawing Room was cleaned up and much better looking than the underground kitchen, Order of Phoenix meeting were ergo held there. Lucretia opened the door quietly and instantly, every face of every person sitting at the long handsome table, looked up at her. Everybody, except Dumbledore and Sirius, naturally, were present. Lucretia, as she headed towards a seat opposite of Shacklebot Kingsley, was looking down at her feet, noticing how worn out the blue carpet was. 

She did very well with acting, and at the end of the meeting she told Remus Lupin how she needs time for herself. She told him she will be taking a vacation. Of course, that given time she will use to go and seek out Professor Trelawney. 

-------------

Narcissa had to give up another guest room to store her dressed, but at least she was not at total loss. Kreacher, the damned traitor, has found a permanent residence at the Malfoys. 

"...I want that room spotless, and tonight for dinner I'll have... well something low fat, possibly just a salad, but make sure you season it nicely. Otherwise, it has no taste..." Narcissa was saying, sitting in the living room, and filing the nail she just broke, while her crossed leg was gangling rhythmically back and forth. 

"Yes, Mistress Narcissa. Is that all, Mistress Narcissa?" the creature asked, bowing down in euphoria. 

"For now," she said, and ignored the muttering of Kreacher, while he was exiting the lengthy room. 

"Mistress Narcissa is good. Not like those brutish filthy traitors. She is just like my old Mistress...."

Narcissa was just thinking how convenient is to have an elf back (she was sick of having to pay for the service, when that new pair of sateen shoes are just what she needs; mind you, she could easily afford ten pairs of those shoes paying the whole herd of servants at the same time) and what shall she wear tonight, when she meets up her social equals for the night of night life. 

A knock on the door of her room was unexpected. She waited few moments before ordering those people outside to enter. 

It was her least favourite maid, Vanessa, with long blond hair, and she, just for today, curled it up. Narcissa thought it was pointless to criticize her maid's slavish sense of fashion, when Vanessa told her how there is a 'man with covered face waiting to see you in your husband's study'. 

After she informed Vanessa to iron her black dress, she headed towards the room on the bottom floor of the house. She also informed Vanessa to clear off because she's fired. 

Even though she was aware that what she wore under her kimono-resembling pastel green robes was highly conservatively (yet very sexy), she still closed the robes with the belt that she tied at the waist. She knew that woman commands more power when she was all zipped up. 

Lucius' study was a windowless room, with brown wood shelves, full of useful book on any subject; from forbidden Dark Arts (those books were tucked into the highest shelves, seldom examined by guests) to large genealogy collection. Huge rectangular desk was in the middle, with two candlesticks in each corner, and very thin board over the space where he would write. Beside that, two handsome black quills were in a black wooden holder. 

The man waiting in there wore a cloth over his face, black hat, and intimidating black cloak. When Narcissa closed the door, politely puzzled look on her face, the man theatrically took off his cloak and cloth, holding each in different hand, both arms outstretched. 

"Rodophus," gleamed Narcissa, coming over and giving him a kiss on cheek. 

"My dear, you look gorgeous," he said. 

She rounded around the table and sat down at the high chair where Lucius always sat like he was on some kind of golden throne imbrued in jewels. She surveyed man with her sharp eyes. Her eyes flew from his pointed chin, face with very short and carefully shaven beard, and bushy eyebrows, that gave him a lot of characters. His high hair line was hardly noticeable because of the prominent, wrinkled brow and slightly Roman nose. All the facial hair shared colour with ravens, though some silverish spots started appearing on his beard. Regardless of his wan body built, he was still a muscly man. He wasn't very tall - Bellatrix, indeed, was two inches taller than him. 

"So, what brings you here?" Narcissa beamed, having a sudden urge not to listen to what Rodolphus was going to say, but to go through all the drawers in Lucius' desk. She could not believe she did not do that before. 

"Since your husband is taking a long journey - to which I was not recruited - he took my wife away. But then, he was very concerned for you here, all alone... he sent me here to take care of you," he was saying, beaming back at her. 

'Take care of me? If you try to touch me, I'll be jamming this candlestick down his anus... ooh, I wonder what he holds in the bottom drawer. He never opens that one when I'm around.'

"That is so caring of you, darling," she still beamed. 

"Oh, it's nothing. What else are in-laws for than to be protected," he laughed with fake mirth. 

'She won't talk as much when I nail her - Bellatrix always shuts'. 

Narcissa joined in this sham charade, but at once her shimmery face converted into a nasty sort of threatening grimace, and Rodolphus abruptly stopped laughing. 

Nosetrils on her slim pointy nose were flaring, and she said very imperiously: "You try as much as touch me, Rodolphus, I'll tell Lucius and he'll be slicing you in pieces."

"Funny thing, that is, indeed, the threat he just issued me before departing," sneered Rodolphus, his eyes definitely alert. 

Narcissa, without second glance, got out of the room, and went to find Vanessa. She won't lose her job today after all, since if Rodolphus was staying at her house, she will need an extra servant. 

------------

Harry's summer was traditional mix of suffering, boredom, and longing to be over. Dudley was insufferable bastard to all the little neighbour kids, and Harry was yenning to hex Dudley good. His top choice was to do to him what Hagrid did (grow him a nice tale that matches his appearance), but since it was very unoriginal, he decided that the curse which would make him allergic to unsaturated fat and sugar would be as good. But there is always the next year when he will be allowed to use the magic out of school - that is, if he does not get himself killed in the meantime while rescuing someone. 

His birthday presents were two days late - they arrived on August 2nd. Harry assumed that the delay was due to the terribly hot and humid weather outside. 

Throwing the book away, he reached for the parcels he got. Hermione sent him another homework planner. He also received a letter in which she also showed her concern for Harry losing his last one. She said that this new, improved one, would immidiately start shouting Harry's name, after Harry activated it, when it was lost. '...so you don't lose it,' wrote Hermione. 

'Oh, that's a relief,' thought Harry. 

Ron's present was a bit more amiable; it was a wand-polishing solution. Hagrid got him a book on dragons, and, to Harry's surprise, Lupin wrote him and got him a book on Occlumency. He also received an owl from Hogwarts with his OWL results (they were amiable - he receives marks high enough that will enable him to persuade his dream as an Auror). Last letter, that was brought by a very vicious black owl, was from Severus Snape. When Harry saw it was from him, he dropped it on the floor, jumping on his legs. He approached it carefully, fearing that it might bite or burn him, but it did neither. The parchment was rough under his hands and he opened it. Snape's narrow, violently slanted to left, handwriting, was not as neat as it usually was. 

Dumbledore wants me to continue teaching you Occlumency. He obviously has too much faith in you, though it is obvious that your tiny mind is incapable of grasping such an advanced matter. He also wishes me to teach you Apparation (which you are undoubtedly too arrogant to be capable of performing). I will be coming on the 10th of August at 4pm. Be prepared. 


End file.
